Across the Street: Counterpoint in Window-Pane

Across the Street - Lynda Lehmann c 2011 

The view in the door glass of a vintage building reflects the arched doorways and windows of buildings across the street.  I enjoy this shot because I'm fascinated with what I like to call "alternative spaces": spaces that are in some way transitional and can't be defined in the way a dedicated "room" can be, and spaces that are otherwise ambiguous or interesting.  Portals, hall, balconies and alleyways all offer unusual perspectives and have always held a fascination for me.  "False spaces" created by reflection or illusion, evoke a similar reaction.

Do you have a favorite space in your home or a familiar building that intrigues you and doesn't quite fit the definition of a standard "room?"

All images and text on this blog are copyrighted material, and may be used only with written permission, except where syndication rights have been granted. All other rights reserved. Please visit my primary site at http://www.lyndalehmann.com/gallery if you would like to see my acrylic paintings and more of my photography and digital art. I hope you enjoyed your visit to my blog!

Windows to the Soul, or Souls Past and Present

The Morbid Details - Lynda Lehmann c 2010

Taken Over - Lynda Lehmann c 2010

Windows of an aging public institution, overgrown with vines, patched, boarded and abandoned, conjure many tales. I think windows and doors have always been iconic for the human species: they are among the archetypes or unconsciously-associated symbols that help us interpret human behavior and navigate the mystery of our existence in the cosmos.

It's no surprise then, that windows such as these have an almost horrific and shocking impact. At least, that's how I feel when I gaze at them. One has to wonder what went on there, in this abandoned complex of buildings at King's Park Psychiatric Hospital, on the grounds of what is now Nissequogue River State Park, and what spiritual forces may have been left behind. One doesn't have to believe wholeheartedly in ghosts to acknowledge that we haven't disproved their existence. Whose spirit might roam these grounds? Would you want to meet them? And perhaps most importantly, will we ever achieve a really humane society?

I posted some other shots taken at this site, last year. I love capturing these vintage/urban shots in spite of the fact that they usually don't evoke positive emotions. But they tell stories, and they have so much character. How well they mark the passage of time and the passage of the human stream, along with it! If you click on the photos you will see more of the details, like the shroud effect of the plastic sheeting on the top image, and the poignant gesture of the vines, in both shots.

At times, contemplating images that reflect a darker side of our collective reality, may make us appreciate the lighter side of the human condition. Things like love and beauty. Do you agree?

Images and text copyright Lynda Lehmann. All rights reserved.

If you would like to view my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can choose from several sizes and paper types or buy my prints plain or matted and framed.

What's in a Name?...The Local Color of Maine

The River Runs

Rustic Mystique

The General Store

At the Edge of the Wood

Late Bloomers

Old Workhorse

Kale With Pine Needle

Farm in Autumn

General Store

We drove the back roads yesterday, for an hour, at least. It was a beautiful, vibrant fall morning, which has given itself up today to a dark cloud cover and heavy rain.

Still faced with much work on our house and knowing the weather is changing, we needed the outing. With the aid of our new GPS, whom we have named "Jessie" for the Jessie's Mill Road she led us to, we felt free to wander without the burden of trying to read maps whose print is just too darned small for our old eyes to read!

We stumbled first on the tiny town of Bolster's Mills. I enjoyed the peace and quiet and the feeling of nostalgia it evokes. Were it not for our perception of the passing of time and the preciousness of fleeting Life, we could not experience nostalgia. But that's another story...

More than anything, I LOVED the general store, all set up with those rockers inviting one to sit awhile. Their presence only reinforced my perception of the fleetingness of our lives and our trappings on this Earth.

In the state of Maine, the appellations they come up with are as colorful as the autumn foliage or the sights along the road. From Puckerbrush to Cat-Moussem Road, to Menotomy Road and Hank's Hog Hill, one can only speculate as to what the inspiration was, for the names of these local byways. The local color here is fascinating.

I've got lots of new photos and I can't wait to do it again. There are whole worlds out there, nestled in every hollow and at every turn of the (paved or unpaved) road...

NOTE TO MY READERS: I usually make every effort to respond to comments and to make the rounds on a regular basis. This past summer, however, I had little item for blogging or my other passions, and have literally done NO painting! I just want you to know that I think of you and hope to be responding to comments more frequently, now that our huge project is a lot further along than it was in May when we again donned our hardhats for work on our house.

All video and text copyright Lynda Lehmann. All rights reserved.

If you would like to view my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can choose from several sizes and paper types or buy my prints plain or matted and framed.

A Bull's Content

My husband and I like to take rides around the Maine countryside whenever possible, even if only for half an hour. With all this work going on, we need an occasional break!

There's so much to see in Maine: of Americana, rural life, and local color. Each home, farm or village seems to call out it's own unique history. The slick and staccato nervous pulse of the city is replaced by nature. And the story of each piece of property, reflecting the lives of its past and present owners, is often hinted at, if not readily apparent. I'm fascinated not only by the lay of the lush green land, but by the trappings of life, both humble and high-reaching but always human, that are visible from the road.

Above you see a shed that caught my interest, it's somewhat dilapidated form seeming to declare that it has been abandoned. "Stop the car," I said when I first spotted it and rolled down the window. To accomodate my photographic whim, my husband applied the brakes.

I was shooting the aged wood and rusty old tools and enjoying the angles of this country shed when my husband said, "Holy cow, there's an animal in there!"

At that very moment a gigantic bull emerged into the light to see what the commotion was, and stared at us somewhat dispassionately in the glaring afternoon light. No cow was he, but a very large animal, to say the least.



Here he is, pulled into view by my telephoto lens. Lucky me: I didn't have to move any closer! Even a young bull (witness the small, emerging horns) who seems complacent and may even have been castrated, was no draw for this cautious, city slicker. I kept my distance!



Yet he looked so sweet, all whiskers and soft, curious eyes, with strands of his (late) lunch protruding from the side of his mouth. No question about it, though, he was quite a large animal, young or not. It would be best to move off, let him have his peace and finish his lunch.

I hope he's comfortable inside his little house in the sunshine of the Maine countryside.

I love the landscape of the Northeast United States, particularly Maine. What places have you visited that take you out of your everyday frame of mind, or even take your breath away?

In the coming weeks I'll share more images from scenic Maine, with you. I apologize for being late in visiting your blogs, but I will get there as much as weeks of painting doors and a thousand moldings, will permit. I'm glad I wrote this post ahead of time, as I would not have been able to write it this week...


All text and photos c Lynda Lehmann. If you would like to see more of my art, photos, digital art and paintings, please visit www.lyndalehmann.com.

"B" is For Barnside Beauty

One day last week during one of my routine "errand tours." I noticed the sunlit facade of a weathered old barn. I was stricken with the stunning variations that caught my eye, from the color changes to patterns and textural variation, in the wood. This facade was indeed like a permutation on the theme of aged wood. I was mesmerized.

This post shows several views of the same building, composed differently. The building has been patched, doctored, improvised upon, and altered through the decades, giving it even more interest. The original slats of siding are punctuated by the addition of glass, wire, and plexiglass, making it a repository of makeshift repair methods. You will note that none of these attempts detracts from the battered, antique quality of the wood.

I think I would define beauty as an aesthetic experience in which one's attention and perception are arrested and jolted out of everyday context and functioning, by a sensory stimulus (in this case, a visual) that causes one not just to pause, but to feel something akin to awe. Embedded in this kind of experience is, perhaps, a recognition of what C. S. Lewis called the experience of the "numinous."

C.S. Lewis was born into a Christian family. He became an atheist before he turned agnostic. At the age of 33 he became a believer, through exactly this kind of experience (couched in a deep joy through his visual and other sensory apparatus) which he considered to be evidence of a Greater Being, or God. He is perhaps best know for his children's series "The Chronicles of Narnia," but his writings on Christian religious views are extensive beyond his fiction works. My feeling when reading a few of his books was not that he was focused so much on a particular (in this case, Christian) view of the universe, so much as on the prevalence of what seem like miracles: phenomena of awesome beauty that reveal a great procreative power at the center of the universe.

C. S. Lewis' books are not easy reading, but I would recommend them to anyone interested in exploring religious and philosophical viewpoints.

Please note that on those occasions when I blog about religion or politics, I'm not espousing any particular belief system, merely exploring ideas in the spirit of sharing and communication.


All text and images c Lynda Lehmann. If you would like to view more of my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can buy my prints plain or matted and framed.

Derelict in the Field: Weathered Truck Wrecks Taken Over by Nature

Sequestered

Last summer I drove past this wreck at least 20 times (well, maybe it was ten). Each time I said to my husband, "Wow, this is such a cool wreck. I've GOT to photograph it before it's gone!" And each time we got out onto that same isolated stretch of highway (to go to the nearest Home Depot for construction supplies) I forgot my camera. Talk about preoccupied...

The day I finally remembered to take my equipment along--in this case, my tiny point and shoot--the wreck was still present. There she was, basking in the heat of a late summer morning, nestled in the mayhem of all those weeds. Lucky me!

I got out of the car and took about 30 shots. Each view of the truck had something different to offer. The view of the tumble-down house behind it, the burnt-out cab, the white of the birches, or the barely-showing tires. You get the point.

Believe it or not, the very next time we took that road, the truck was gone! As if someone lurking on this seemingly derelict and abandoned property, didn't want me to have any more fun!

****

Robbie, Sidelined

This wreck was on a more developed part of the same highway, in an area with lots of languishing old homes and businesses. Looking at this one, I had to wonder who "Robbie" is, and what's become of him. What might he be doing now, in his life? Are his truck-driving days a thing of the past?

Laid to Rest in the Birches

We found this derelict one steamy summer evening just before twilight, while the sun was still strong, even from its low point in the sky. This rusty specimen had a powerful presence, sitting on a hill, slightly above my vantage point. I have to wonder what jobs this truck pulled off in its lifetime, and what tales it might tell.

All images and text c Lynda Lehmann. If you would like to view more of my art or make a purchase, please visit Lynda Lehmann Painting and Photography or my gallery at Imagekind, where you can choose from several sizes and paper types or buy my prints plain or matted and framed.

A Horse is a Horse, Of Course, Of Course!

My husband and I "met" this lovely steed at a local historic event in rural Maine last summer. Scribner's Mill, to be exact, where local history and customs were being celebrated. Here, "Molly The Hungry Horse" takes time out for a late afternoon snack of hay. She was personable enough to give us a glance, even as we interrupted her meal. I'm taken by the shock of hair in her eyes, her long whiskers, and the morsels of hay protruding from her mouth. Cuteness aside, horses are beautiful and noble animals.

Unfortunately for me, those times in my life when I sat on top of one, were not too pleasant. I remember three experiences in particular. When I was about eight my father took me horseback riding. My steed was the only one who galloped down the steep hill at the end of the trail, straight for the lake! He turned so abruptly at the last minute, that I nearly flew into the water. I was speechless and so grateful to dismount, I probably didn't speak for the rest of the day!

Another time when I had paid for a horseback ride, they gave me a mule instead. I was a teenager and too embarrassed to protest. (Cute guys around, you know...) This stubborn critter walked me into every available low-hanging branch along our trail, so that I spent the entire time ducking and flailing. Now THAT was embarrassing, as were the scratches on my face!

The third time did me in. My husband and I were on our honeymoon, just a 3-day trip to Mount Airy Lodge in Pennsylvania, which we could barely afford in those years. A cold snap had the winter landscape in its icy vice-grip, but we opted for a horseback ride anyway. We needed to get away from the opulent meals and most of all, the chocolate desserts we had been over-consuming.

My horse didn't want to leave the stable and made that known early on, when he stubbornly circled instead of falling into the queue. I help my breath in the icy air as we entered the forest. My apparently fatigued and willful horse fell to his knees on the rocky and root-crossed path and rocked sideways, while I sat perched on his back, my mouth open and my heart jumping out of my chest. Not only was it minus three degrees that day, almost too cold to breathe, but I was SURE my marriage was going to be cut short by my untimely death upon the ice-encrusted rocks of a forest horse path.

Image and text c Lynda Lehmann.

Light Through Time

Time will not wait, but takes its toll.

Boughs break, rivers thin

and bend their banks,

our faces fade and line.

Seasons change with paradigms,

our knowledge never sure.

Yet sunlight melds through ages past

while seas still lick the shore.

Stories spill

in textured light,

paint peals past eon's

weather and woe,

while we seek answers

not attained.

So time's impassive

march must go.

Image and text c 2008 Lynda Lehmann. All rights reserved.

Thank you, Blogging Friends, for reading my poem. Though I know little of writing poetry, I'm attempting to compose pieces that relate to my images and at the same time have some meaning. I hope they will resonate on a tiny note of truth for my readers. I welcome your feedback and discussion!

Deadbolt

An intriguing bolt on a weathered door. The worn and rustic surfaces tell stories of another era, and hint at more personal tales unfolding in that time. Some features of architecture, whether of modern or more ancient origin, evoke their own symbology. Freudian and sexual interpretations aside, I think that locks evoke both an emotional response as well as questions about time and situation. Similarly, doors and windows hold much fascination for me and a lot of other people.

European architecture, with its combination of structural and decorative elements, has a wider range, in my opinion, of elements that can be looked at in metaphorical ways. I have a post half written, that describes my feelings about what I like to call "transitional spaces": the arch, balcony, and alleyway. I'll post it soon, along with photos from Bussana Vecchia (an international artist's colony) and other scenic, medieval towns in the Ligurian region of Northern Italy.

I wonder what Joseph Campbell would tell us about the symblogy of locks and doors, among other things... I'm sure they are the stuff of myths.

Image c Lynda Lehmann. Available at www.lyndalehmann.com.

Time Piece

A romantic or nostalgic look at the personal timepiece. Sadly, no one can stop time to keep a moment real or preserve a memory. But we cling to our watches as if they have some special power. I have sentimentalized this shot intentionally, by my choice of color. I manipulated the original in Photoshop, part of a series of photos I took today. I hope you enjoy it. Image and Text c 2007 Lynda Lehmann.

This print is 8 x 10 and matted to 11 x 14 inches. It's available, along with hundreds of other images, from minerals and machines to florals and shots of Bussana Vecchia in Italy, at http://www.lyndalehmann.com

Urban Wallpaper

These photographs are part of my "Urban Wallpaper" series. I'm interested in how street scenes (including local architecture) reflect and reveal trends in a particular culture, as well as some larger truths about the human condition. In this shot, manikins command the attention of passersby on a New York City street.

Waiting for the Long Island Railroad. The person standing on the other side of the tracks could represent a parallel reality, or vis a vis the schoolgirls, a subjective/objective dichotomy or personal/impersonal paradox.

While the rich pride themselves on their "gated communities," the poverty of a neighborhood can be assessed by the number of locks and barriers on its doors and windows.

In a Lookist society, human beings are reduced to commodities.

Exiting the train into a maze of steel and reflective surfaces.

"The Gates," by Christo and Jeanne-Claude, was a large scale art installation whose effect was to bring together people from all places and cultures in a new kind of experience. The experience of strolling among the giant saffron "Gates" and seeing them unfurl across Central Park, reached across political and religious barriers.

View of Manhattan from the west. I like the contrast of the open water of the river, with the crowded skyline.

I hope you've enjoyed these photos. If you want to see more of my "Urban Wallpaper" series, you can check out my "exhibitions" at www.absolutearts.com/lyndalehmann . All images and text c Lynda Lehmann. Thanks for looking!